Jane and the Dragon belongs to Martin Baynton and Weta.
The amazing new cover artwork is by the super talented keylimecliche over on tumblr. I believe she will be uploading it there soon so you can admire the awesome details.
This fic has reached the 100 review mark which is a first for me so thanks for your ongoing support!
There were no tears, only anger. Rage consumed Jane as she throttled the giant body of the beast, fists beating against its bony shoulders as she screamed.
"Give him back! He was never yours! You can not keep him! Give him back!"
Black eyes stared unseeing at the moon and the moon gazed back in silence, a cold understanding between them that Jane could not bear.
"Give him back!" She ordered, her throat burning. "I have to take him home, he has to come home with me."
She grabbed at the hair on its cheeks and yanked at the beast's head until its face pointed to her own, but still those black eyes reflected the moon.
"You lost," she told it desperately. "You lost, so- so he is not yours! You can not keep him, you have to give him back! You have to . . . ."
Give him back.
Jane drew in a shaky breath, and then another.
"I need him," she whispered, and then screamed. "I need him!"
Sir Theodore, Sir Ivon, they would want him returned. They would rather Jane drag his body back with her than not bring him home at all. They would want to see him buried properly.
The King would not accept anything but the return of his loyal servant. The Queen would sob to think of him abandoned to rot.
"I cannot go home without him, how could I possibly go home without him?"
What would the Royal Children do without him to pester? Who would help Smithy move his heaviest materials? The others would miss him, too, and . . . .
"What will I do without him?" Jane sat back in sudden horror. "Who will I spar with? Who will I . . . ." Argue with, work with, study with, ride with . . . .
In truth the list was endless. They had been students, rivals, apprentices together for so long now and somewhere through the years they had become partners. A team. They had become . . . them. Jane and Gunther. Gunther and Jane.
Bile rose in Jane's throat and she forced it back, removing her hands from the corpse.
"This is wrong," she said. "This is not how this ends. He beat you, he-he won."
The beast stared at the moon.
"I am telling you he won!" Jane screamed. "Listen to me, you bastard, or I will cut out your damned eyes!"
Her hands searched the ground around her for a stone, a stick, something with which to attack that unyielding stare. When she failed to find anything she leapt to her feet, drawing her sword, and lowering the point to his face.
In her frenzy she did not notice that the arrow was gone from the stomach of the beast, nor the faint jerking movements, but when she moved to slice through its eyes the whole body convulsed and she stumbled back a step.
She turned just in time to see the silver arrow push upwards, back through the flesh of the beast creating a hole, and then there were fingers pushing and tearing, and Jane dropped her sword.
"Oh gods," she gasped, falling again to her knees, grabbing the arrow and pulling it free, and using the head to hack and slice until there was a hand, slick and slimy with blood so dark it was almost black.
She grasped the hand and squeezed hard as she continued to work at the opening with the arrow head, until the fingers of the second hand pushed through, tearing desperately.
"Hold on!" Jane yelled, releasing her grip on the other hand as she remembered the knife in her pack and dove for it.
The blade was sharp and Jane cut carefully, muttering "Hold on, hold on, hold on," over and over as the struggling fingers grew weaker.
There would be no air, no light, just darkness and blood. Jane repressed a shudder, holding her hands steady as she worked until she was able to toss the knife down and tear. The last sinews strained and snapped and she reached for the hands, now barely moving, and pulled with all of her might.
She staggered backwards as the slick hands slipped free of her own and a human form rose from within the monster. Covered in blood and dripping gory chunks of Hell knew what, he gasped, desperately drawing in air.
He opened his eyes briefly then, blessedly familiarly grey, and looked at Jane.
"Gunther," she breathed in disbelief, before his eyes rolled back in his head and she dove to catch him as he slumped forwards.
It had been hard work pulling him out of the corpse, struggling for grip on his slippery skin as she bore the full weight of him. It was only after she had dragged him free at last that she realised he was naked.
"Oh," said Jane, nonplussed. Well, of course, you saw his clothes destroyed, she reminded herself, although that failed to solve the problem of what to do about it.
Her next thought was to cover him in her cloak, but as she raised her hands to unfasten it she realised they were covered in blood, and that Gunther was almost unrecognisable under a thick coat of the congealing liquid.
Jane found herself unable to leave him in such a state, and her eyes turned towards the gently rippling pond.
She shed her cloak and outer garments before gripping Gunther under the arms and dragging him towards the water, focusing intently on her task as adrenaline coursed through her.
The cold water elicited a gasp but she grit her teeth and drew them both in as red swirled and spread in tendrils around them.
As the water passed over him it revealed his body to be thin but unmarked, save for a scar above his right hip. It was a half circle of deep puncture wounds, red and puckered. A bite mark.
"Oh, Gunther," said Jane.
It was only when she wiped her hands over his face that they began to shake, only when the blood washed away to reveal his familiar features that she realised tears were blurring her vision.
She knelt in the water, trembling and sobbing as she washed him clean, thanking the silent stars above that he couldn't see her just now.
The night was long and cold, and Jane shivered as she held Gunther, wrapped in her cloak and the blankets from his pack and hers. They huddled under a tree while Gunther slept on deeply, and the body of the beast lay just a stone's throw away. Jane tried not to stare at it as she kept watch.
The arrow lay within her reach where she had gathered it together with the rest of their belongings. Keeping one arm wrapped around Gunther she picked it up, wiping it clean on the corner of a blanket until it gleamed in the moonlight once more.
"I hope we never have need of this again, Gunther,"she said, looking at him.
A matted lock of hair fell across his eyes, and he stirred in his sleep, mumbling something that sounded vaguely like "Jane."
Placing the arrow on the ground beside her she reached across to brush the hair back from his face. It was a mess, like the rest of him, suffering from the effects of neglect. His unusually pale skin was stretched over gaunt cheekbones, and dark circles surrounded his eyes. Somehow he looked both younger and older to Jane, but also just like someone she had been longing to see. She knew, rather too well now, how his muscles lay tight across his bones, with no spare flesh to round them. He would be ravenous when he woke up.
If he wakes, came a traitorous thought, and Jane squashed it down.
"He will wake up," she told herself, and then Gunther. "You will, Gunther. You would not want to miss the chance to bask in the glory of your greatest victory, now, would you?"
Gunther stirred again at the sound of her voice and one of his hands slipped from beneath the cloak, brushing against Jane's thigh. Goosebumps rose on her skin, but they were not born of the cold. Startled, Jane reached beneath the blanket, twining her fingers with his and filing the physical betrayal of her body away for later consideration, if not to be permanently forgotten.
Sliding further down into the blankets Jane lay awake and watching until their combined warmth eventually filled the space between them and she succumbed to her own exhaustion.
Shrill birdsong woke Jane from a fitful drowse as the grey light of morning flooded the clearing. Gunther continued to sleep soundly and despite shaking him firmly Jane couldn't wake him. She chewed her lower lip and considered her choices.
Dragging him all the way to the Traveller's camp was not an option, and they couldn't stay put with nothing to eat or drink until Gunther's strength returned. Not to mention the smell that would soon come from . . . the body. Jane shuddered and looked back to Gunther, moving the blanket away from his mouth.
"I am going to have to leave you here for a little while," she told him softly. "I need to go and get help."
She hesitated a moment longer before wriggling out from under the blankets and tucking them tight around him. She adjusted the pack under his head and placed a hand against his cheek. He was warm. Too warm? Or was she simply cold?
I must find Sabina.
She hated more than anything else the thought of leaving him alone with the monster once more but it had to be done, and now was the best time to catch the foraging Travellers before they moved on.
"Back soon," she promised, before standing and jogging into the woods.
Jane supposed she must have looked a fright in her blood-stained clothes with her hair frizzing madly, but Sabina greeted her warmly and placed a comforting hand on her back as she doubled over, gasping for breath. Running and calling for the foraging woman may not have been an elegant approach, but it had been effective, drawing the attention of a familiar scout, and Sabina herself shortly after.
"Breathe Jane, breathe, and tell me what has happened to you?" She said, scanning the younger woman for injuries.
"I need help," Jane gasped out. "For Gunther. He has-" Oh sard, what did it matter now? "He has killed a werewolf."
Sabina paled at this announcement, and the eyebrows shot up on the young scout standing beside her.
"I cannot get him to wake up," Jane continued. "Please, Sabina, he needs help."
Sabina nodded. "Very well, is he far from here?"
"No, I left him in a clearing nearby," Jane said.
"Then Harman will accompany us there where we will stay and tend to Gunther while he runs back to camp to gather some men to help us move him," Sabina decided, and the young scout, Harman, nodded his agreement.
"Thank you," said Jane before setting off, not wanting to waste any more time.
"What happened?" Asked Harman, jogging beside her.
"It attacked him and he fought for . . . a long time. A long time." Jane panted out. "But he killed it."
"Did it . . . was he . . . is it safe?" Asked Sabina from behind them.
"Yes-no-yes-" Jane interrupted herself with an impatient huff. "We are safe. But Gunther . . . I am not sure he is."
When they arrived back at the clearing Jane instantly made her way to Gunther, searching for signs of change but finding none. She glanced over her shoulder to ask Sabina for instruction and saw that both she and Harman had frozen and were staring at the beast.
"I realise it is not pleasant," said Jane firmly, if a little breathlessly. "But it can not harm you now."
When neither of them responded she spoke louder, "Please, help us!"
At this Sabina blinked and looked over to where Jane knelt beside Gunther. She moved quickly to join her, taking in his pale features with a glance.
"Harman, go quickly and bring back help. We will need several strong men. Tell Grandmother we will need hot water and a bed made ready. Go now!" She did not look up as she gave the orders, nor when Harman nodded and ran back into the woods. Her focus was on her patient.
"He is feverish," she muttered to Jane. "When did he last eat, or drink?"
"I do not know," said Jane, her stomach dropping as she took in the concern on Sabina's face. "Is it . . . Is he . . . ?" She trailed off, unsure how to ask, or if she even wanted to.
"We shall see," replied the herbalist. The silver bracelets on her wrists jangled with each movement she made, and Jane said nothing as they were pressed against Gunther's cheek. She understood the other woman's need to be certain.
When several moments passed without any reaction, Sabina continued with her ministrations.
"For now we must prepare him for travel." She said briskly, and the two women set to work.